


Uncle Jack

by Kabella



Series: Endurance [2]
Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Abuse, Depression, Drawings, Fear, Jail, Loneliness, M/M, Nikki hurt, Sexual Assault, Suicidal Thoughts, Threats, Tommy hurt, Trust Crow, Violation, Visitation, Warden - Freeform, food trays, hopelessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24545395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabella/pseuds/Kabella
Summary: Tommy Lee has been sentenced to jail. He knew it would be bad, but never expected things to be this bad. Nikki remains a helpless spectator.
Relationships: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Series: Endurance [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902748
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Uncle Jack

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. So, this is keeping with the series that I started writing, using song titles from the Crue albums. What was supposed to be one shots, turned into a story with the song titles of the self-titled '94 album. 
> 
> This story preceeds the events of the 3 that I already posted; starting with Driftaway. There are 3 upcoming chapters that will follow this, all preceding Driftaway. Another alternative chapter will also be included with this set. It jumps right off from this one, but is not necessarily part of the storyline, just an alternative version of events, that I decided write after a conversation with a reader.
> 
> This is another story that I'm nervous about posting.
> 
> Please be warned. The contents of this story are heavy. Physical abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, sexual abuse, depression, and suicidal thoughts. If any of these are triggers for you, you may want to skip this one. 
> 
> If you read Driftaway, now you'll know why Tommy was so fucked up.
> 
> I have ideas for the remaining song titles. Happier chapters that will take place between Loveshine and Til Death Do Us Part.

**Uncle Jack -**

“You’re dead.”

“I’ll turn you into a real man.”

“Wife beater.”

“Your ass is mine.”

“Ain’t no one special.”

“He’s gonna cry.”

These and a dozen more profane things were shouted at Tommy as he was led down the block to his cell.

Tommy kept a stoic face as he walked by the other prisoners. Fear creeping into his very core with each step. Fear of the unknown. Fear of his safety. Fear of loneliness. Fear of having to face himself. 

He’s directed into an empty cell, and the door is shut tightly, with a heavy clang; signaling the beginning of his journey into hell.

It’s a box. 4 walls. Nothing to look at. A small window in the door with heavy steel bars spaced a few inches apart. A fold-down metal slab for a bed; only a thin mattress to lie upon. A stiff, woolen blanket. A footlocker. A squat metal toilet, with a pump sink attached. A metal stool, bolted to the cement floor, and a small metal tray table bolted to the wall. Glaring fluorescent light from above. No natural light.

Tommy sits on the bed. He wants to cry, but refuses; not now anyway. Not ‘til he knows his routine; when it’s safe. He can’t risk a sudden inspection or visit from a warden. He can’t cry on the first day. It will only set the tone.

How did this become my life? Tommy wonders, hanging his head. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, the stale air already choking his lungs.

\------------------

Over the next few hours, nothing happens. Nothing. There’s nothing to see. No one to talk to. He can hear muffled voices. There’s random screaming and an occasional crescendo of angry voices filling the air. There are clangs and booms, every one of them causing Tommy to jump. He wonders when someone will talk to him next. How long before someone comes by? What time is it? Will he be fed? How does that work? When will he come out of the cell? Maybe it’s better he doesn’t. Tommy has been lying down, trying to fall asleep. At least that will pass the time. But he can’t. Every sound. Every scream reminds him that he’s not in a safe place. He’s scared.

Just as Tommy thinks that he may be on the brink of sleep, there’s a rattle at his door. It’s dinner, served through a slot in the door. He isn’t hungry, but he takes the tray, curious to see what kind of dogmeat is going to be served. It’s bland chicken soup; mostly broth. Over cooked green beans. Rice pilaf with a hair in it. A half pint of fruit juice. He’s not hungry. He places the meal on the metal tray table. Tommy lies back down on the bed.

About an hour later, there’s a heavy clanging on the bars on his door. Tommy bolts to an upright sitting position, as the door opens.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” A large, burly jail warden says, while slapping his combat baton into the palm of his empty hand. “You don’t listen to instruction very well, do you?”

Tommy stays silent, not knowing what to say; eyes intent on the warden closing in on him.

“Dinner trays! Back on the slot within the hour, Lee,” the brute says, inches away from Tommy, still beating his baton in his hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. It won’t happen again,” Tommy blurts out, shaking.

“There are no second chances here, rockstar…. STAND UP WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!! You disrespectful piece of shit.”

The warden grabs Tommy by the neck, and slams him up against the wall, the end baton now pressed firmly into his neck. “Don’t think that you’re going to get any special treatment here. I don’t take kind to women beaters,” the beast sneers.

Tommy doesn’t move, as he attempts to breath.

Suddenly the warden pulls Tommy off the wall by grabbing him on the top of his head by his hair. He’s pulled violently across the room by his hair over to his food tray. The warden slams Tommy's face into the tray; cold soup splattering all over, his face smeared into the green beans and rice. The warden lets go with a shove to his head, causing him to fall onto the floor. 

“Now eat it!”

Tommy doesn’t want to eat this. He didn’t want it before, and especially now that it’s been scattered all over; some still on the tray, some on the table, and some on the floor. He has just a moment to decide whether to comply or refuse. He realizes refusal can end very badly. Tommy complies; choking down what he can. The warden laughs. 

“Now lick up the soup from the floor,” the warden demands, cracking Tommy in the back with the billy club.

Tommy is humiliated and disgusted. He’s too afraid to refuse. So far, he’s been nothing by compliant, and he’s still getting the shit beat out of him.

“That’s it, woman beater. Your wife will never want your dirty tongue on her pussy again,” the brute blares.

Bored now, the warden leaves, a diabolical laugh heard, as the door clanks shut.

Tommy has never felt so demoralized in his life. He sits back on the bed, and has to will himself not to cry. No crying. It’s only been a few hours into the 120 days that he’s required to serve. Just a few hours; the worst of his life….. except maybe when Nikki overdosed.

He uses that concept to help accept the situation, telling himself that he’d rather endure this than to be back in that place of flux, not knowing whether Nikki was going to make it; as if it has to be one or the other. No…... life should be lived without either of those things, but right now, he needs something to fool himself into a place in his mind where he can grit and bear this.

\----------

“Lee!”

Tommy, lost in thought, think’s he may have just heard his name. He’s not sure. He waits, listening.

“Hey…. T Lee!”

He hears it. Who is it?’ Should he answer?

“I know you can hear me, man. That was Jack. Watch your ass around him.”

Tommy realizes the voice is from the cell next door. He’s terrified to respond back. What if this is a set-up? He wasn’t told he couldn’t talk, but he also wasn’t told to put his meal tray back in the slot.

“We call him Uncle Jack,” the voice continues. “You know, because everyone has that one slimy uncle.”

Tommy retreats into a ball on his mattress, and pulls the blanket over himself.

“Name’s Crow. Keep a low profile. Lemme know if you have any questions. You’ll feel at home soon.”

Tommy will never feel at home in this place. This is as far from home as Jupiter would be. He can’t help but to let a few tears escape, as he thinks about home; a place of love and comfort. Or maybe just comfort. No one who loved him would ever want him to be here. How could she want him here? He could never imagine anyone he loved or even liked in this place. It’s the gateway to hell.

\------------------------------

Tommy cowers for hours underneath his stale, itchy blanket. Every rattle at his door, fills him fear. He doesn’t know if he can do this. 

….God, someone please help me…..

There’s barking on a blaring PA system about curfew. Light’s out in 30 minutes. Tommy doesn’t move, lights already out for him underneath the blanket, pained and stiff from tensing and shivering; until the actual lights dim a half hour later. Tommy feels a measure of relief; finally falling asleep from sheer exhaustion.

\----------------------

“Nikki, what’s wrong?” his wife nudges him in bed.

He’s startled out of his thoughts, not realizing that he’s been spaced out for probably a good long time. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Is it about Tommy starting his sentence today?”

“Maybe,” Nikki shrugs, feeling himself get tight in the throats at the mention of his name. Definitely. He can’t stop thinking about his lover; alone and probably scared. Nikki would trade the comfort of his soft bed and warm blankets, just to hold Tommy secure, in the jail cell every night, if he could. He would do it; even if it meant telling his wife. Perhaps easy for him to make that determination, knowing full well that he’ll never be able to be in the cell with Tommy to comfort him. It’s not a choice that he’d actually have to face. Although, he’s certain he would do it. Tommy means that much to him.

“I’m going to make some warm tea. Is that OK?” Nikki asks, leaving his wife in bed.

“Of course. Do you want company?”

“No. I just need some time to breathe deeply and relax a bit. I just feel too consumed for bed right now.”

“OK. Come back soon.”

\---- Nikki walks down to the kitchen. He doesn’t really want anything. He just needs to be alone. Nikki quietly opens the french doors to the veranda, and goes out to sit beneath the night sky. It’s there he starts to sob quietly, feeling sick to his stomach about Tommy being locked away, alone. Nikki had been to hearings. He heard both sides. She was complicit in this too. Why does he have to be there? 

This isn’t about missing him or going without. It’s so much more. He knows his lover is in pain and scared, and there’s nothing he can do about it. His emotions are so raw, filling in every cell of his body, and pouring over, that he convinced himself that Tommy must feel something reaching across the sky from his lover. He lets his tears run dry, and then returns to bed. 

\-------------------

7am

There’s a loud rattle at Tommy’s door. He opens his eyes, seeing that the glaring lights are back on. Tommy eventually learns that many of the other prisoners are woken up at 6am, but he and the others in solitary are left to sleep until 7am, since they don’t leave their cells for work duty, meals, and recreation.

Tommy is not sure if he’s supposed to be doing something. There’s really nothing to do. After a little while, he hears that same voice from last night, Crow. 

“T Lee! Breakfast will be coming. Use this time to exercise or read.”

Tommy is still afraid to answer. And he had nothing to read. He wonders if he’ll be given that privilege at some point. He hears a scratching noise on the floor, underneath his bed which shares a wall with his neighbor. He looks underneath and sees something being shoved into his cell through a small hole on the wall. He pulls it the rest of the way out. It’s a pamphlet with Bible quotes and stories. Not exactly his preferred reading material, but at least it’s something. Tommy gets as close to the hole as he can and says ‘thanks.’ He contemplates how long someone would have to be sentenced to dig a hole through cinder block.

“You’ll get more. It takes a few days. Maybe a week. Hang tough, man.”

Tommy simply nods, knowing the other man can’t even see him.

About 10 minutes later, breakfast is pushed through the slot in the door. Bad scrambled eggs, a flacid waffle, a fruit cup, and coffee. Tommy still isn’t very hungry, but he’s afraid not to eat it. If he had a choice, he’d choose just the coffee and fruit, but forces himself to choke down the other items so that he doesn’t have to eat them off the floor later. He places his tray back in the slot.

Nothing else much happened for the rest of the day. A few check ins from wardens, not Uncle Jack, and the usual array of screaming and banging. Tommy was bored out of his mind, craving someone to talk to. Instead, reading the pamphlet and later folding it into shapes. The only other things he could do was think about what a loser he is, and sleep.

\--------------------------------

The next day starts out, just the same, and progresses just the same; another pamphlet passed through from his neighbor. Tommy prepares himself for another agonizing, boring day, only this time, he’s suddenly face to face with Jack again, the first warden to check in on him for the day. The warden immediately upon entering the cell, backhands Tommy across the face for not standing up fast enough. Peppered him with more threats, and shoved him hard against the wall, before stepping out again.

Tommy is devastated that this monster is back. He had hoped that maybe it was a one time incident. No, now he knows that he’s the warden’s favorite, new target. Tommy tried to hold back his tears, allowing a few to run over the rims of his eyes. As he laid in bed, trying to quiet himself, he heard something being passed through the hole again. It was a pencil. New tears spilled out. He was thankful.

\---------------------

Over the next two weeks Tommy learned to trust and appreciate his neighbor, Crow, eventually realizing that he could talk without repercussion. He was given a pencil and more pamphlets from the wardens. The only time that Tommy was allowed to leave his cell was for a shower every two days. Jack, well, he seemed to be nosing in, abusing Tommy in one way or another every day, except his 2 days off. A slam against the wall, a hand on this throat, a crack of the billy club, a stab with his dinner fork, and a slew of insults and threats, all meant to cut deep.

Tommy was also allowed a few phone calls. He attempted to call his kids, but was unsuccessful. He instead called his parents and sister. He didn’t have the strength to call Nikki, feeling as if he’d break down. He didn’t want Nikki to worry. In the meantime, not realizing that Nikki was worried the very first minute Tommy led off the jail; pained that he hasn’t been able to have any contact with him. Once Nikki received word that Tommy was finally able to have visitors once a week, he went down to the jail, at the very first opportunity.

\--------------------------

Nikki waited on line to get into the jail for visitation. Went through all of the bells and whistles to be able to have a 15 minute visit with Tommy. He was there, first thing, wanting to see Tommy as soon as possible, not sure who else might be coming to see him. Probably his parents and his sister. He hopes not the wife. Mick said that he’ll come, but not today. Nikki just didn’t want to take the chance of coming too late, and being turned away.

He sat in the chair in front of the reinforced window; phone to his right, knee bouncing as he waited. Finally after several minutes, Tommy was led to the visitors box, shackled. Nikki couldn’t help to be stunned. While in truth, it’s only been 2 weeks since he last saw him, Tommy appeared gaunt and emaciated; the shackles did nothing to help alleviate the horror. Yet at the same time, there was his heartbeat right in front of him, inches aways, separated by a layer of plexi-glass.

When Tommy saw Nikki, as he approached the cubicle, he felt nothing but shame and sheer pain. He kept his eyes downcast, barely able to look at Nikki; using all of his might not to cry. 

Nikki also worked hard to hold back tears. He didn’t want to cause Tommy anymore distress.

The pair just sat for a few minutes. Nikki going back and forth between staring and looking down. Tommy only glancing at Nikki once. The bassist pressed his finger tips on the base of the window. Tommy sees them; trying to fight back tears, he presses his fingers back, opposite Nikki’s. He glances up again and Nikki motions for him to pick up the phone. Tommy’s heart is pounding unsure if he’s ready to hear Nikki’s voice. He picks the phone up.

“Hey,” Nikki says.

“Hey,” Tommy replies back; Nikki’s voice, the only beautiful sound that he’s heard in two weeks.

“How are you holding up?”

“About as expected.”

Nikki nods, biting his lip. “There’s a lot I want to say to you.”

“I know,” Tommy replies, aware that there’s much they can’t say to each other. Not here. As a matter of fact, they agreed before Tommy started his sentence that they’d say “fuck you” as code for “I love you.” It seemed like a good idea at the time, something they both laughed about, but it now seems inappropriate. There’s nothing humorous about his situation. He think’s Nikki must agree since he hasn’t said it either.

Nikki sees a contusion on the side of Tommy’s face, near his eye. “What happened to your eye?”

“Hmm, funny thing, I guess. My bed is smaller. I fell out and landed on the concrete a few nights ago,” Tommy lies. Uncle Jack slammed the side of his head into one of the bars, supporting his bed.

“I wish I….” Nikki stops himself. “I hope it heals quickly,” he says, instead. He doesn’t buy Tommy’s bullshit answer, he just wants to tend to the wound with love. He knows Tommy probably wouldn’t and probably shouldn’t reveal the causes for such things. He feels badly that he even asked. “I’ve been trying to keep busy with music.”

Tommy flashes a forced smile, “That’s good. You always come up with good ideas.”

Nikki shrugs. “Not much good these days. Just something to occupy myself.”

Tommy feels a nudge of resentment creep into him. Nikki has 1001 things to keep himself occupied with. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be completely without anything. He knows that Nikki was homeless for a while, but he still had freedom. Freedom to walk somewhere, see something, see someone. Freedom to fight back. Tommy’s been stripped of everything.

“Are you eating?” Nikki asks.

“If you call what’s served here food, then yes.”

Nikki senses a bitterness in Tommy’s tone. He decides to lay off the questions. This has been hard for both of them. 

“I worry,” Nikki says softly.

“No need to. I’m figuring things out. Besides, I’ll be out before I know it. Two weeks down,” Tommy says, sporting another fake grin.

Nikki just nods. He knows Tommy’s facial expressions. All of them. These are his disingenuous ones. 

“Um, well…. I told you before. I have so much to say. I--”

“I know, Nik. I know.

They sit silently for a few minutes until they’re told that they only have a minute left.

“I think my mom and dad are coming today,” Tommy says.

“We all couldn’t wait,” Nikki replies.

“It might feel like home for a minute, while they’re here.”

“I hope so,” Nikki says, fighting tears. “Hey…. I didn’t want to say it like this, but I just have to. Fuck you. OK. I mean that. I mean it,” he says, his voice faltering.

“Fuck you too,” Tommy nods.

“We’ll come up with something else, OK?”

Just then, they’re told to wrap up.

Nikki hangs up the phone, and presses his fingertips back on the divider. Tommy does the same, then a warden comes to lead him away.

\-----------------------------

Tommy is led back to his cell, and is unshackled. He lies down, and pulls the blanket over himself because he knows the tears are coming. He’s not sure whether Nikki’s visit helped or hurt. Not that Nikki hurt him, just that seeing him was so raw. They were so close, but it may as well have been miles with the divider and the shackles. Tommy can’t relate to him right now. He replays the conversation in his head, savoring that voice that usually fills him to the brim with love and passion, but in these past 2 weeks, Tommy has been dehumanized; unworthy; damaged goods. Nikki deserves better. He should move on to someone who’s worth it. Someone who he can bounce ideas off of. Share his creations with; in a nice warm and clean house. Or on a sunny patio. Nikki needs sunshine, not ruin.

\---------------------

Nikki returns to his car, and unleashes a flood of tears. That wasn’t his Tommy. What have they done to him? He could see the pain in his eyes, the coverup behind his smile, the dark story behind the bruise. Nikki can’t bring himself to drive away. Tommy is in that building. That vile place. How could he just leave and go home to his plush living. He can’t.

Sometime later he gets a blaring call from his wife asking where he is. How could he forget that she has an appointment with her physical trainer. He needs to get his ass home to watch the kids. Nikki wants to scream at her. Fuck the trainer! And fuck you and your petty ass schedule of daily worthless shit. But he doesn’t, he apologizes and starts towards home. It’s not her fault. Prior to Tommy’s sentencing, they were all like that, minding schedules and appointments, doing stupid insignificant shit, day in and day out. None of it matters now, not to Nikki. Certainly not to Tommy. God, what an idiot he was to even mention something like the music to Tommy, who probably hasn’t even gotten to hear any music for 2 weeks. Nikki feels a cutting pang as he drives away.

\---------------------------

Another few weeks went by. The environment didn’t get any better for Tommy in jail, except for 2 things. He was gaining some rapport with the other guys in solitary, and he finally had phone contact with his boys, as well as permission to make some other phone calls. He also has been able to receive his letters. They were held from him for a while. He proudly hung up a drawing on the wall from his oldest son with a piece of gum.

Unfortunately, the abuse from Uncle Jack continued. It may have even ramped up a bit. Only once did Jack bring Tommy to shower. He prodded him all over with the billy club the entire time; also threatened him and mocked him. The other inmates were shouting vulgar things at Tommy. Jack threatened to toss Tommy into the mix. And Tommy believed that he’d do it too and allow them to gang rape him.

His wife continued her silent treatment. And Nikki’s visits and phone calls were really nothing but a source of pain for Tommy. He couldn’t explain it. Aside from his kids, Nikki is the person closest to his heart. He’s his counterpart, his completion. Tommy’s being broken down to hate himself and hate life. How is he good enough for Nikki? How could Nikki love such a pathetic pile of loser shit? How will Nikki ever understand any of this? He can’t and he won’t. He’s living the best life; wife, kids, success. Tommy knows that he won’t fit in anymore, and he shouldn’t. Nikki deserves so much more. As for the band, he’s not sure about that either. He’s been butting heads with Vince, and his taste in music is changing. Happens sometimes. The little music that he doesn hear, while locked up, is not Motley Crue. It’s rap and related styles, and it’s angry shit and face busting shit. It pumps him up. Nikki and the band just want to continue on with their steady, faithful rock music. 

Nikki’s been so excited about obtaining the rights to their music catalog, that he’s on his 20th idea for yet another compilation album. Tommy is tired of it. While he doesn’t want to leave them in a lurch, he’s beginning to develop an exit strategy. Things change.

Nikki has certainly noticed Tommy’s solemn demeanor during his visits. It bothers him. He doesn’t expect sunshine and rainbows, but he feels like he’s barely getting a pulse from him. Tommy doesn’t say much, and every smile has been forced. Nikki tells himself that it’s all a result from his lock-up. He’s obviously depressed. However, at night while he lies in bed, his mind begins to race with worse thoughts. _He’s upset with me. He doesn’t love me or want me anymore. He’s bored with me. Maybe he found a new best friend in jail_. Nikki sometimes wonders if he should continue the visits. If it were up to him, he’d come everyday if the jail allowed it, just to see his lover, but maybe Tommy needs a break. He doesn’t even know how to ask. It's complicated. 

\--------------------------

A long 8 weeks have passed. Tommy feels dead. He still can’t even begin to understand how someone who was supposed to love him, sent him here. The argument they had was mutual. They both had hands on each other. It should have been resolved without law enforcement. At the very least, she should have dropped the charges, or rallied for a shorter sentence. She knows what really happened. While he takes responsibility for his own actions, which were wrong, hers were wrong too. It shouldn’t have led to this, and she’s off scott free. But even if someone actually cared to listen to his side, he would never have done this to her. He would never put her in a place like this.

It’s 7pm and it’s time to call his older son before bed. He has a sweet 3 minute conversation with the little guy before his wife pulls him away for bed, hanging the phone up on Tommy. It doesn’t matter what she does. He got to talk to his boy and it makes him smile. He smiles when he hears that little voice. Only he didn’t know that Uncle Jack was watching him through the window in the door. 

“You think that kid loves you? Kids are smarter than that,” Jack sneers. You know your wife is going to poison their minds against you. He steps in and yanks the cord out of the phone. The bully snaps it, as he stretches it taut between his 2 hands. Before Tommy even has a chance to grieve the loss of the installed phone in his cell that he earned, the cord is looped around his neck. Jack pulls him around the cell by his neck in cord.

“Get this through your head. Nobody loves you. You’re nothing by a washed-up has-been. A loser dad who abuses his family. You kids will learn the truth soon enough.”

Tommy can’t breathe. He almost doesn’t care. Kill me, he thinks. Just kill me. Pull it tighter. But, Jack lets go; Tommy dropping to the floor, gasping for air. 

The warden spies the crayon drawing and sntaches it off the wall. He unbuckles his own belt, pulls the back of his starched pants down, wipes his ass with the drawing, then drops it to the ground in front of Tommy. 

“This represents how shitty of a father you are,” Jack laughs, leaving with a hard clang of the door.

Tommy feels numb. He can’t even cry. When that cord was on his neck, all he could think about was dying. He wanted to die. That would have been the best outcome. Much better than having his last lifeline crushed. Jack is right; Tommy is a bad father. His boys deserve better.

\------------------------

Later that night, after lights out, Jack returns to Tommy’s cell. He was woken up to that familiar feeling of the baton pressed up against his neck. He’s terrified. Jack has never been in his cell overnight, no warden has. 

“Know what I found out tonight?” Jack sneers, in a low voice.

Tommy cannot exactly respond with the billy club up against his throat.

“I found out that 2 inmates wanted to kill you. Poison. The only smart thing you’ve done since being here is not taking their bait. You’d be on the floor convulsing, foaming at the mouth, and dead in minutes. Know what I did to them?”

Tommy can only tremble in fear; he’s been offered various types of drugs from other inmates in recent weeks. He’s always turned them down, not wanting to risk getting caught, and having his sentence extended.

“Let’s just say they’re not going to be fucking with you anymore. Nobody here likes you, but they know that you’re mine, not theirs. You take what I have to give to you. You know that, don’t you rock star? That’s why you turned them down, isn’t it? You’re faithful to your Uncle Jack, aren’t you?

Tommy can only hope that he’s going to be killed right now. He wants to die, and he’d rather die than endure anything else from this motherfucker.

Jack pulls the baton back and then grabs Tommy by the collar, yanking him up, pulling him up until the drummer is in a standing position. Jack backs him into the wall. He tucks his baton underneath his arm, and yanks down Tommy prison pants.

“Please…” Tommy shudders.

“Turn around,” Jack commands.

“Please don’t,” Tommy pleads, tears streaming down his face.

“You do as I say. I protected you,” the warden says, as he penetrates Tommy with the billy club. “Tell me how you like it.”

“I can’t,” Tommy cries.

Jack becomes more forceful with the club. “Tell me how much you like it,” he grunts.

“I…. I like it,” Tommy sobs, afraid that he’ll be violated further, in a more personal way, for not complying.

“That’s right. Uncle Jack makes you feel good. No one is ever going to want a scum like you. I give you what you need,” the warden snarls, before letting Tommy go. “You thank me now.”

“Thank you,” Tommy continues to sob.

“For what?”

“Saving my life,” Tommy cries. He wants to die.

“That’s my boy,” the warden says, leaving the cell.

\--------------------------

Tommy doesn’t feel human anymore. How can this happen, and why? How come nobody stops this? He shouldn’t be here. Or maybe he should? Perhaps everyone is right; he deserves nothing good. 

Visitation is in a few days. He’s not sure if he can face anyone. Tommy feels like his whole soul has been violated.

\------------------

Nikki waits in the visitor booth for Tommy to be brought in. It seems like it’s taking longer than usual, and he doesn’t know if this cuts into his 15 minutes; at least 5 have passed. Finally Tommy is led in, and Nikki shoots him a grin. He doesn’t get one in return.

“I was getting concerned that you couldn’t come for some reason. I tried calling last night, but I couldn’t get through.”

“I don’t have my phone anymore,” Tommy sighs.

“Oh… shit. I’m sorry.”

Tommy shrugs.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“OK. That’s cool.”

“You know what, Nikki. It’s not cool. So why don’t you shut your fucking mouth,” Tommy snaps.

“I’m sorry. Poor choice of words. I didn’t mean--”

“Doesn’t matter what you meant. I’m not in the mood for **any** of your words today.”

Nikki doesn’t understand what’s happening here. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Yeah,” Tommy nods. “As a matter of fact, don’t come back. I don’t want to see you.”

“Where’s this coming from? What did I do?”

“It’s nothing that your brain will ever ever comprehend.”

Nikki just sits on the chair, trying to take in what’s unfolding before him. “What’s this mean?”

“I don’t know. But don’t worry, Sixx. You’ll be alright. You have a nice comfy bed to go lie in, and a soft pillow to cry into. Or you can pound a bottle of fucking Jack. You got a ton of choices. Go write a fucking song about it. You can get in your fucking car, and smoke and blow of steam. Hell, you even have the choice to drive off a cliff if you wanted to.”

“Maybe I will. I don’t understand. I never rubbed any of that in your face,” Nikki says, hanging up the phone, and getting up to leave. 

Tommy doesn’t feel any emotion right now, as he watches Nikki walk away, dejected, turning around to look one last time, with pain spread across his face. Tommy’s then taken and led back to his cell. It’s then he lets the tears surface. He doesn’t know why he just did what he did to the only person who still gives a damn about him, aside from family. It was a combination of hurting himself, and frustration towards the world outside that he believes has forsaken him.

\--------------------------

Nikki gets out to his car and sobs. Tommy just dumped him. He doesn’t know what he did. He thought that he was doing everything he could from his position to be there for him. And he wasn’t doing it out of obligation, he was doing it all out of love. He just wanted to be there, and see him, and always hoped that he was brightening Tommy’s days as well. Now he knows that he was not. 

\-------------------

Later that day, Nikki’s phone rings.

“Nikki?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Athena.”

“Is everything OK?” Nikki asks, alarmed.

“There’s no emergency. I’m calling because I saw my brother today, and he seemed rattled and despondent. I couldn’t get much out of him, but he did ask me to let you know that he didn’t mean most of what he said to you earlier.”

“OK. Thanks,” Nikki says, solemnly.

“Hey Nikki. I don’t know what he said to you, but I hope you don’t hold it against him. Something is changing in him. He’s not himself and I’m worried. Please don’t hate him. I think that’s what he wants, if that makes any sense, but it’s not what he needs.”

“I don’t. I could never hate him. I just am at a loss. He doesn’t want me to visit anymore.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying. I swear, something bad is happening. Something within those walls. Just please don’t shun him. He’ll need you when he gets out.”

“I’ll be around if he wants me, hopefully. I gotta go,” Nikki says, hanging up.

\-----------------------

A few days later, Tommy is restless in his thoughts. Jack has been by. He hasn’t violated him again, but he’s been up to his usual antics of shoving him around and talking him down. Despite nothing new happening, Tommy can’t let the nighttime incident go. And what he said to Nikki, he hates himself for that. He thinks so lowly of himself, that he doesn’t think that Nikki should be upset. What’s there to be upset about. You got rid of a loser in your life. But, he knows deep inside that his words probably destroyed the bassist.

He thinks about that phone cord around his neck the other night. It wasn’t so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to die in that manner. He’s been looking up at his light fixture since the incident, wondering if it would hold his weight long enough to hang himself, dead. He wonders if he can rig something up there to get the job done. There’s just no point to anything anymore. He’s unhuman and worthless, not to mention tired of being scared, lonely, and miserable. He decides he’s going to make this happen, as soon as he lays out the plan in his head with timing and set-up; his prison pants to be the hanging means.

The more Tommy thinks about his plan, the more peace he feels. They’ll all get over it, he tells himself. His boys are so young, they won’t even remember him. They’ll have a step dad to love them. He hopes his wife feels badly, but she probably won’t. Nikki… he’ll be upset, but he”ll eventually move on. Last thing Nikki needs is a complicated relationship with him. He only feels uncomfortable thinking about the press. There will be a lot of talk about his wife and jail. They’ll talk a lot about Motley Crue. Gone too soon? Or just another dead spoiled rock star? Someone who couldn’t cut it. Someone who failed.

This was his plan, until 2 things happened the next day. One was a card from his sons. 

“ _We miss you, daddy.”_

Spelled out with help. A two little handprints in paint. 

The return address on the envelope is from his parents’ house. They must have been babysitting. Tommy rubs his fingers over the hands. He misses them too. More than anything.

The next thing that happened was note passed through the hole in the wall. It was from Crow. 

_Hey T Lee,_

_Motherfucker won’t bother you no more. A little “accident” happened. Uncle is out with a broken leg. Somehow I slipped in the shower and brought him down with me. You can rest easy now, man._

_Your friend, C_

_Flush this…._

Tommy can’t understand how someone that he doesn’t even know is looking out for him. He’s never even seen him, but a brief glance in his cell while passing. All Tommy knows is that he’s black and they’re probably around the same age. And that he has a new friend. He flushes it and writes back, thanking him….hoping the incident is being looked at as an accident for Crow’s sake.

These things gave Tommy enough fight to try to make it through the next 5 to 6 weeks until he’s released.

Tommy went to bed that night, feeling maybe the slightest bit of peace within himself. His thoughts drifted to Nikki. He wonders what he’s doing. What would Nikki think if he knew that the drummer was considering suicide? A little more clear-headed now, he realizes that Nikki probably wouldn’t have survived it. He’s thankful for Crow. Tommy holds his kids’ card on his chest, thankful for that too. They’re lifesavers, in more than one way. He drifts off to sleep.

\------------------------

Nikki, on the other hand, has only grown more restless in his sleep. Tonight is another one of those nights. He has to get out of bed. He’s run out of excuses to tell his wife. She’s stopped asking, obviously aware that Nikki is experiencing some sort of inner turmoil. He won’t talk about it with her. She’s been extremely frustrated with him. She’s assuming that he’s using and drinking; maybe issues with the band, especially with Tommy in jail. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t think that he’s cheating because he’s been home. A lot. Too much; moping around and keeping to himself for the most part. He’s been attempting to interact with the kids. Sometimes, they’re just what he needs, but other times, it’s hard. He feels terrible. He has to keep trying for them. 

Nikki steps outside, off the veranda, out towards a storage shed. It’s there he sits on the far side, out of view from everyone, and just lets his tears flow. He replays in his head, everyday, exactly what was said at the jail. His only solace being Athena’s phone call, the same day. Nikki can only hope that Tommy will come around. He’s willing to help him in any way that he needs. It’s now just a matter of whether Tommy will ever accept his help, or even his presence in his life. “God, please don’t leave me alone,” Nikki whispers, through his tears. “Please be OK. I need you.”


End file.
